


FanBoy

by Slytheringirle



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Enjolras and Bossuet are roomates, Enjolras and Cosette are adopted, Enjolras and Cosetter are twins, Grantaire has dyrexia, M/M, They’re not really talking at the moment though, but Enjolras and Cosette took a gap year, drarry fanfiction, enjolras is a nerd, he writes fanfiction, mention of a past eating disorder, they’re all the same age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytheringirle/pseuds/Slytheringirle
Summary: Two shirtless boys were sprawled over one of the beds when Enjolras came, a box in hand. He looked up at the silver numbers nailed into the door and back to the boys; yep, this was his room..FanGirl AU! Enjolras is starting college, but without his twin -Cosette- there to guide him through the ultimate struggle that is college life, well... He struggles. He finds comfort in the wizarding world, particularly in writing Drarry fanfiction. Will he be able to survive the first semester or will he end up at his Father's doorstep at three in the morning? And what about his roommate's friend? The black-curled brunet, he can't just leave him behind, can he now?





	FanBoy

**Author's Note:**

> FanGirl AU! Though there will be some changes. And I wanna thank my [beta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspejoNight28738) for editing this, all mistakes are mine!

Two shirtless boys were sprawled over one of the beds when Enjolras came, a box in hand. He looked up at the silver numbers nailed into the door and back to the boys; yep, this was his room. Should he clear his throat to announce his presence or just say hi? Maybe he should introduce himself, try to befriend the roommate.

“Oh hey. You must be Enjolras.” Said one of the two men upon spotting him. He was average built; a hairless slightly, muscular chest and a matching stomach. What caught his attention though was his bald head. Did he have cancer? That seemed to be the only explanation since he looked too young to be balding.

“I’m Bossuet,” he said, not getting up. “I’d get up and shake your hand, but the air conditioner isn't working so that’d just be too much energy for both of us.”

“Hey! Don’t forget me!” Cried the other man; a brunette with unruly black curls that were pasted to his forehead with sweat and a six pack. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was trying his best not to move -which was probably the case, all things considered.

“And how would you be affected?”

“Radiation and everything,” said the man, waving a hand with his eyes still closed.

“Do you even know how radiation works?” Asked Bossuet, incredulous.

“It’s cool,” Enjolras said, entering the room and setting the box on the vacant bed, he didn’t feel like witnessing an argument just yet.

He should probably go downstairs and tell his father not to bring up all the boxes, the room was smaller than he’d expected. Just a one-hundred-twenty-five square feet with two four poster beds that had a desk squeezed in between. There was also a wardrobe between his bed and the wall that had four doors, he assumed he and Bossuet will split in half, if the latter hadn’t already emptied his boxes -which were nowhere to be seen. Well, looks like he’ll just have to hope that he’d split it evenly.

“Ugh… Where do you want me to put these?”

He turned to see his father standing in the doorway, holding two boxes piled over each other. He’ll never get over how strong his father was for a man his age.

“Holy shit! You didn’t tell me your father was here!” He heard Bossuet whisper-shout from behind him and apparently scrambling to his feet by the sound of it.

“Relax, Bossuet.” Came the six abed man’s voice.“It’s not like you were making out with him.”

Enjolras felt the blood rush to his cheek, but ignored them. “On the bed,” he said. “But I’m not sure if we should bring up everything. The room’s smaller than I expected.”

“No problem,” said his father as he set the boxes down. “You can always drop by if you need something, so just take essentials for now.”

“Okay,” he agreed, turning to tear open the boxes. He knew there were two more down in the car, but all his clothes and textbooks were in here.

“You must be Enjolras’s roommate,” he heard his father say from behind.

“Yes, sir. I’m Bossuet.”

“Valjean.”

He turned to see his father and his roommate -who had sprung on a bright gray sleeveless t-shirt- shaking hands. “Well, I’m going to leave you to it boys.” Said his father, then, turning to Enjolras, “I’ll be in the car.” And with that, he left.

As soon as he left, a chime sound from beside his roommate's nightstand. Said roommate rached out for the phone, before turning to the still shirtless man. “Get your ass out of the bed,” he said, throwing a green t-shirt at him. “We’re meeting Joly and the others at the Musain.

The brunet heaved a sigh as he sat up and fumbled with the t-shirt. “At least they have air conditioning there,” he said, getting up and putting the shirt on.

“You’re not the one who’s stuck sleeping here,” retorted his roommate -Bossuet- from the doorway, “so you have no right to complain.” Before walking down the hallway.

“You are the one who has no right to complain!” Cried the brunet after him. “We’ve asked you to move in with us a thousand times!”

“And miss out on the full college experience?” Came a matching cry from the hallway.

The now clothed man turned to him, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment before he spoke. “I’m Grantaire,” he smiled, holding out a hand.

“Enjolras,” he replied, meeting the hand with his own. He wanted to say something witty for some reason, to impress this brunet -Grantaire- but his brain short circuited. Not that he blamed it, who could think when they’re staring into the blue eyes that were smiling at him. They were set in a tanned face with high cheekbones and full, if slightly, uneven lips.

He shook his head, as though regaining his senses and smiled. “Nice to meet you.” Nice to meet you? Really?!

“You too, and we should probably get going.” Said Garantare making his way to the door. After Grantaire left, he returned to his pile of textbooks and clothes. Maybe he should just get everything from the car, and if there wasn’t enough space -he hoped against hope that this wasn’t the case, maybe he just miscalculated, heaven knows he’s a freaking champion when it comes to that- then he’s sure that there is a storage room here somewhere; surely not everybody has enough space for all their stuff?

Just as he was about to open the closet, Grantaire peaked from the doorway. “You coming?” He asked.

“Coming where?”

“The Musain.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Enjolras hadn’t even known that he was invited.

He shook his head, apologising. “I think I’ll pass,” he said. “I’ve still got boxes to unload.”

“You can organise your stuff later,” said Grantaire. “Come on, they have the best coffee in all of France there, maybe even the world!”

“And my father is waiting in the car.”

“Your loss,” shrugged Grantaire before leaving.

                                                                      . . .

“Are you sure?” Asked his father for the hundredth time.

“Yes dad,” he groaned. “And if there are no storage rooms then I can just leave the boxes here.”

His father held up his arms in surrender. “I’m just saying you can drop in whenever you want.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, collapsing on the bed. The heat was finally getting into him. “You will find me at the doorstep at three in the morning one week into the semester.” He joked, but they both knew there was some truth to his words.

“No, I won’t.” Said his father firmly, taking a seat next to him. “I know it seems impossible now, but you’ll adapt. Trust me.”

He shot his father and leaned in to hug him. He wasn’t usually this sentimental, but he can’t be judged right now, right? “I’ll still come on weekends though,” he murmured inyothe man’s shoulder.

He father laughed softly, returning the hug. “Not this weekend though, I have a conference.”

“Well, looks like I’m gonna have the house to myself.” He smiled teasingly, pulling back.

His father smiled sadly. “And Cosette?”

“She has plans,” he said flatly, getting up and pulling his laptop out of his case.

There was a tense silence as he plugged in his laptop. When he was done, he turned back to his father. “Do you want to grab something to eat?”

“Yeah,” he answered, smiling as he got up. “There’s a good restaurant just off campus.”

“Maybe try something here?” He suggested. “If I’m going to live here for the rest of the academic semester then I should probably know at least one good place.” Not that he intended to go anywhere. He’s packed ten protein bar boxes that should last him the semester because, as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t want to look like a loner, sitting all alone in the dining hall.

His father brightened up. “Of course,’’ apparently happy that he was at least trying.

“Just let me grab the map,” he said, turning to grabs said map from his nightstand. He had been given the map when he’d come here to check out the place last summer.

“All set?” Asked his father as he tucked the map in his back pocket.

“All set.”

They walked down the hallway in silence which stretched on as they waited for the elevator to arrive. When it finally did, a Ding echoed through the empty place before the doors opened to reveal to girls -Juniors, by the look of it. They started giggling when they caught sight of him, earning themselves an eye roll. He got on the elevator and made a show of pressing the close button after his father got on.

“Looks like you’ve got some admirers,” noted his father, clearly amused.

He kept his silence, refusing to acknowledge anything. He hated it when people did that, as though he was there for them to giggle at and swoon over. He’d resolved long ago to not date any of the people who swooned over at the sight of him, let alone marry them. No need for such shallowness in his life.

                                                                 . . .

“Are you sure it’s here?” Asked his father, squinting against the setting sun.

“Umm… I might have turned left at a right turn.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Ugh.” Groaned his father, rolling his eyes. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you with this. Here, give it to me.” He held out his hand and Enjolras handed it over reluctantly. He wished Cosette was here, out of the three of the, she was the best with directions. Though admittedly, his skills were worse than a three year old’s.

“According to the map, the nearest restaurant section is within a ten minutes walk.” Said his father, not taking his eyes off the map. “Come on,” he tucked it behind his back pocket and nodded left. “This way.”

“Can you do me a favour and check on Cosette?” He asked as they walked down the sun bathed streets. “I know you guys are fighting but college is never easy, no matter what she says. If anything, she’ll listen to you.”

“We’re not fighting,” he said, which, while it wasn’t exactly true, wasn’t a complete lie. Yes, he was made at her for ditching him and choosing another roommate. Yes, he didn’t want to talk to her at the moment, but that doesn’t mean they’re fighting.

“Sure you’re not.”

They walked in silence for a while before he broke it. “Okay, I’ll check on her.” He relented.

His father grinned. “I knew I could count on you.”

“So how’s the project coming?” He asked, changing the subject.

They talked about his father’s work and school for the rest of the walk, cracking jokes every now and then until they finally reached Pound’s. The place was packed with diners, each with their own neon sign advertising the menu. With the sun completely set and the neon signs lighting up the place, the place looked like a poor replica of Times Square - a place he remember’s from their visit to New York his and Cosette’s sophomore year.

“Which one?” He asked.

His father shook his head, “anyone.” He responded, clearly equally lost.

So they went to a diner with a glowing yellow sign over it reading Tackey’s. Inside, the place was decorated like any other diner, except that everything was wooden, and some hip-hop song was playing over the mindless chatter of the other diners. They squeezed into a boat beside the window that had two menus on it.

“Pretty crowded,” noted his father. “Must be a good place.”

Enjolras couldn’t disagree more. Starbucks was always crowded no matter the franchise or the time, and he can honestly say that they have the worst coffee known to mankind. “Possibly,” he answered, picking up the menu.

He wasn’t hungry, far from it actually, but he’d just wanted to spend some time with his father before having to say goodbye. He had actually looked forward to college, but that was before Costte said that she didn’t want to be roommates with him. What was there to get excited about anymore? He sucked at making friends.

“Can I take your orders?”

He looked up to see a black haired girl with a black apron reading the diner’s name in big white letters smiling down at them. “I’ll just have a pasta salad,” he said. “Dad?”

“Steak and a coke.”

“-and coke. Got it.” Said the waitress, looking up from her notebook. “Anything else?”

They shook their heads. “No thank you.”

As soon as the waitress left, his father turned to him, worry etched one very aspect of his face. “Pasta salad?”

“I’m not really hungry,” he said, shrugging. He knew his father was worried that he’s having a relapse, but he wasn’t. He just wasn’t hungry.

If possible, his father’s already butter soft expression softened. “Is this about Cosette?”

Now how the hell did he connect this to Cosette? “No dad,” he answered through a sigh. “And can we please not talk about it? At least not now.”

“Okay fine. I won’t push it. But do you promise to call if anything’s wrong?”

“I promise.”

They slipped into the diners’ mindless chatter then as they their food came, discussing the classes he was planning to take this semester and his fiction writing class.

“Are you sure you want to take this class?” Asked his father through a mouthful of steak. “Don’t you think it’ll be hard? Remember, it all goes into your GPA.”

“Yes, dad. I’m sure.” In fact, it was the only thing he was sure of. His father eyed him for a moment before relenting. “There is no talking you out of it, is there? Just don’t overwork yourself.”

“I won’t.” He promised, smiling. His father was just trying to help.

His father left fifteen minutes later, saying that he’ll barley make it homes around midnight even if he left now. He’d paid the bill before leaving, so after he had gotten the change back and tipped the waitress, he made his way back to the dorm, using his phone’s flashlight to see the path his father had highlighted on the map.

. . .

Finally satisfied, he pulled back to admire his handy work. He’d hung a poster of Draco and Harry holding hands as they walked along the Great Lake, the wind ruffling their hair and blowing their scarves around their faces. It was a fanart he’d requested a couple of months ago as a part of a fanart/fanfic exchange. At the bottom left corner the artist had signed his name with an R. Beside it was another poster that he’d also requested from R, but it wasn’t a part of an exchange. This one was of Harry and Draco curled up on a sofa in the Slytherin’s common room with their arms wrapped around each other’s waist and nursing a cup of coffee with the other.

He pulled the remaining boxes and placed them beside the wardrobe, resolving to find a storage room first thing in the morning. And if there wasn’t such a thing… Well, he’s screwed. There was no way he could put up with these boxes for the rest of the semester, he just hadn’t wanted to bother his father.

Turning off the lights, he crawled into the bed and powered on his laptop. It’s been a long day and he was beyond exhausted, not to mention missing Cosette more than ever, but he needed to upload a chapter or at least assure his followers that he hasn’t abandoned them. He typed in his password and watched as the welcome sign faded into his background; another fanart, but this time of Dumbledore's Army -also by R. What can he say? The artist was a perfectionist.

He clicked on the browser and opened Archive Of Our Own, ao3 for short. He replied to some comments he’d gotten on his latest chapter before switching to tumblr where he proceeded to apologize to his followers.

 _Hi!_ He typed, _I’m sorry I hadn’t updated To Love Is To Be Human today. With moving into the dorm and leaving home I hadn’t really had time to do anything. I’ll try my best to update tomorrow, though I can’t promise anything._

**XOXO**

**-MugglesAreAlsoHuman**

Satisfied, he clicked post before closing the browser and going to Word. If he was to publish anything anytime soon, then he better start now, maybe he’ll even be able to send chapter to his beta by tomorrow evening.

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!  
> .  
> The funny things is, I didn’t ship Drarry when I was in the fandom, and I still don’t but it just felt right to make Enjolras ship them.  
> .  
> Do you want me to go in detail about the drarry fanfics? Like Rainbow Rowell in FanGirl?  
> .  
> Check out my Tumblr! [@enjolraire-is-canon](https://enjoltaire-is-canon.tumblr.com/%22)


End file.
